A Confusion of Corpses
by Owlbait
Summary: Magical forensics expert and private investigator Hermione Granger is hired to solve the mystery of a most unexpected corpse. Warnings: character death, Menage-a-Trois
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** Written for death_ofme in the 2011 SSHG Exchange on LJ, my first exchange and my first SSHG story. JKR owns the characters and world. Luvsev owns my sincere gratitude for sorting out my many errors.

It was late afternoon on a Friday in May, seven years after the end of Voldemort. Hermione sat at her desk in her office reading a scientific journal.

The office was part of a small suite of rooms on the second floor above Flourish and Blotts bookshop in Diagon Alley. At the top of a flight of stairs next to the bookshop was a small landing and a wooden door with a glass window. Neatly lettered on the glass were the words "Hermione Granger, Private Investigator."

The suite was comprised of a reception area where Hermione's assistant held the front lines, a photographic darkroom and file archive, a potions laboratory, and a loo. Behind the receptionist's desk was the door to Hermione's office, currently closed.

The office would have been spacious if not for the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covering all available wall surfaces and leaving space only for two doors, a large window and a fireplace. A polished oak desk sat in the center of the room with two comfortable guest chairs in front of it and a luxurious leather office chair behind it.

A large window faced Diagon Alley; the blinds were up, allowing a beam of spring sunshine into the room where it caught a bevy of dust motes in mid-dance, shone on some flyaway tendrils of brunette hair, and sparkled on the silk stockings covering a pair of shapely legs and feet propped up on the oak desk. The stockings ended at the hem of a grey wool pencil skirt, topped by a tailored white blouse. Black pumps with modest heels lay under the desk, and a conservative black witch's robe hung from a wooden coat rack in the corner behind the desk.

The stockinged feet stirred and shifted to a more comfortable position. Hermione turned the page of her journal and nibbled on a stray lock of hair absently as she focused on following the author's complex explanation of his most recent experimental results with Polyjuice Potion and its effects after death. She was not certain she agreed with the author as to what extent experiments on laboratory Pygmy Puffs could be extrapolated to human beings.

A knock at the office door broke the silence. Hermione lowered her feet and tilted her chair forward.

"Yes, Hannah? Come in."

A blond witch with soft brown eyes and blond hair, neatly braided, entered and said, "You asked me to tell you when it was three o'clock, Miss Granger."

"Oh, yes, thank you. I have to get ready for the St Mungo's ball this evening. I'll see you there with Neville, shall I?"

"Yes, we'll be there."

"Good, why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off to get ready since I'm leaving now?"

"Thank you, Miss Granger. I've filed all your notes from the Polkiss case and deposited the check with Gringotts. Here is your appointment schedule for Monday. I'll see you later," Hannah said, leaving the schedule on Hermione's desk before going back to her own and retrieving her handbag from a drawer. She was a very efficient assistant, and Hermione was lucky to have her.

Hermione slipped her feet into her shoes, took down the robe from the rack and threw it on over her clothes. She never knew if she'd have to blend in with wizard or Muggle folk on any given day, so she dressed to be able to do either easily. Taking her own handbag from her desk drawer, she warded the fireplace and her office door, then Apparated home, leaving Hannah Abbot to do the same for the outer door.

* * *

Hermione appeared in her own living room and began stripping clothes on her way to the bath. Tonight was a charity function benefiting the Janus Thickey Ward which she was obliged to attend.

She ran the shower until the water was hot, then stepped in. Soaping up the flannel, she carefully cleaned the sweat and grime of the warm day from her, washed her hair and tamed it somewhat with creme rinse. This would be a dress robe affair, so after she'd dried herself, she applied a sizable dose of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to her hair as well before she charmed it dry and up.

Hermione hadn't really needed to leave early to get ready. She'd been to enough of these things that she had it down to a science. She wasn't going with a date whom she needed to impress, she mused as she stood naked in front of her open closet, considering her dress robes. _That one,_ she decided, pulling out a deep bronze bias-cut affair that she knew clung nicely. It had garnered several complements the last time she'd warn it which had been two or three events ago.

She'd tried getting out of these things. She offered to donate money instead of buying a ticket, but the Director had told her confidentially that her showing up was much more valuable to St. Mungo's than the price of her ticket. While she wasn't Harry Potter, she was still a famous hero, and plenty of people would spring for tickets and attend in the hopes of meeting her. For Neville's sake, Hermione felt obliged to do what she could, so she bought her ticket and promised to go.

Hermione lay the gown over the bed and went to feed Crookshanks. Crooks was getting on in years, but was still her most reliable companion, and she never trusted anyone who hadn't passed his smell test.

Essential chore done, Hermione chose shoes and jewelry to go with the gown and pulled them out. Then she picked up the trail of clothes she'd scattered through the living room in her haste to get clean and hung them up or threw them in the hamper, as appropriate. Finally, she pulled out clean knickers, and a bra that wouldn't show under the low-cut gown, and put them on. There were still two hours before she needed to be at the dance, so she threw a dressing gown over and settled in to read for a bit. She came back to reality when Crooks was headbutting her ankles to warn her she'd be late.

"Thanks, Crooks," she told him, heading back to the bedroom to finish dressing. Ten minutes later, Hermione was pinning on her earrings and surveying the total effect in her mirror. _Very nice_, she thought. She looked elegant, self assured, even sexy. She picked up her clutch and Apparated to the event hall.

* * *

_All the usual suspects, I see_, Hermione thought to herself, glancing around the room. The Shacklebolts were at the head table, with the Potters, the Weasleys, their son George and his date Katie Bell, Ron and Lavender. Molly and Arthur wouldn't have been able to afford to come, but George had given his parents tickets, both as a treat to Molly who was still depressed over Fred's death, and as additional support to St. Mungo's, whose staff had worked so hard to help his brother Bill. The joke shop was doing very well, and George had enough money to be generous.

Over at a table near the front, but against a side wall, were the Malfoys Lucius and Narcissa, and their son Draco with his date Luna.

Hermione's place was waiting for her between the Shacklebolts and the Potters. She picked up a glass of wine from a passing tray and took a sip.

"Hello, Hermione," Nevile said, walking up with Hannah on his arm. "You look beautiful tonight, but then you always do." He leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek, then slipped his arm back around his Fiancée.

"Thank you, Neville. You look lovely too, Hannah. I hope you are having a good time."

Hannah smiled at her employer. "Thank you, I'm having a lovely time. I've been looking around for ideas for our reception. Only two more months, so much to do..."

"I'm certain it will be a wonderful wedding, Hannah."

"Miss Granger, so lovely to see you again," Lucius announced, bowing over her hand. He actually managed to sound as if he'd meant it. Hermione had been running into him at these events for years now. Any remaining dislike he may have felt for her was very carefully hidden; she was too important to snub, both in her own right and for having the ear of the Minister.

Hermione still didn't trust him, but he was a wonderful dancer not to mention a very attractive man, and she generally allowed him to partner her for one or two dances. Narcissa, she could see, was doing her level best to pretend she liked the Weasleys. No effort was too much where Draco's potential career was concerned.

Hermione put her wineglass down on a side table and put politics from her mind as Lucius effortlessly turned her around the floor, the silk skirts of her gown swirling gracefully to the music. He never said anything to make her uncomfortable, or touched her in any way not strictly appropriate. Of course his wife was sitting right by, but that never seemed to stop Arnold Peasegood, Hermione mused. Arnold was both a lech and an extremely competent Obliviator a combination that made Hermione uneasy in his company, even in a crowded ballroom.

The music came to a close and, with a graceful bow, Lucius thanked her for the dance and asked her to whom he should escort her.

"Harry, please."

Lucius brought her to the head table, rescuing her wineglass for her en route. Narcissa, deep in conversation with Molly, who was pretending not to see Hermione, smiled up at them as they passed around to reach Harry. Lucius bowed over Hermione's hand again and invited Mrs Shacklebolt to dance.

"Hi, Hermione, how's the detective business going?"

"Very well; we finished up a case just the other day. Honestly, you'd think a witch who'd thought better of marrying a Muggle could just leave him instead of ... Hello, Arthur! Congratulations on your new granddaughter. I hear little Victoire is over the moon about her new baby sister."

"Thank you, Hermione. Bill and Fleur are hoping you'll be by Shell Cottage for a visit soon. Molly's been there all week, of course, but she's back home now," Arthur told her, looking a little awkward.

"I'll Floo them tomorrow and ask when to come around," Hermione said. Arthur thanked her and left, and Hermione returned to her conversation.

"Well anyway, Harry, it was just an ugly thing to do, and I'm glad the MLE has her now."

"I heard a bit about it. I was just as happy to be on another case when the Aurors were called," Harry told her. Would you like to dance? Ginny's a bit tired and wants to sit."

"I'd love to."

Harry had turned into a pretty good dancer. He'd had plenty of practice since he was asked to this sort of thing constantly since the war. Hermione stood and accepted his hand to lead her out.

"I'm sorry about Molly, Hermione. It's just wrong that she's still being so rude to you."

"Don't worry about it, Harry. I can take a little rudeness without getting upset. She's your mother-in-law, you need to keep the family peace."

"It's just a shame though, even Ron thinks she's going on too much about it."

"How is Ron, by the way?"

"Good. He's doing well at work, and he's seeing Lavender again."

"Isn't Lavender married?"

"She and McLaggan are separated."

"I'm sorry to hear it, although I wouldn't have wished McLaggan on any woman. I'm glad Ron's moving on; Lavender will appreciate him better than I could."

"Well, you know how I felt, I'd have really liked you and he to be together, but it was pretty obvious to everyone except Ron that it really wasn't going to work. So, are we ever going to see you going with someone, Hermione? You look absolutely stunning in this dress; it's a shame to waste it on all us married men."

Hermione laughed. "It's not a waste, and I'm having a good time ... I can't help it all the good wizards are taken. I'm too picky to settle, Harry, and I just haven't found anyone interesting enough."

The dance ended, and Draco came by, claiming her for the next.

"Hi, Draco, how's Luna?"

"She's fine; she wanted to chat with Ginny a bit so I thought I'd dance with you and make my parents happy."

"Luna a bit much for them?" Hermione asked Draco, grinning.

"She's not exactly their type, is she? Besides, she's a pureblood, and while they like that, they don't want to be seen liking it, if you know what I mean. They'd much rather have me involved with you, for the appearance of the thing," Draco told her, rolling his eyes.

"You should remind them she's Harry's friend. In the mean time, since you dance nearly as well as your father, Malfoy, I'll indulge your little deception," Hermione told him with a smile.

"It isn't a hardship, Granger," Draco told her and, grinning, took the opportunity to turn her in a particularly flashy move and dip her daringly at the end.

* * *

Hermione sat with Fleur in the living room at Shell Cottage, admiring the newest Weasley. She had her mother's blond hair, at least a few wisps of it, and looked to have her father's eyes, although it was too soon really to tell.

"Bill's muzzair has been to see us yestairday, asking if we would talk to you about Ron." Hermione and Fleur both rolled their eyes identically.

"Does she do that a lot?" Hermione asked.

"She's here pretty frequently," Bill told her. "Because of the children, obviously, but also because her volunteer work is nearby."

"Volunteer work?" Hermione asked.

"There is an orphanage just a few miles from here, for kids afflicted with lycanthropy.

"There are that many? Does Greyback go after kids with no parents now?" Hermione asked, shocked.

"Not exactly," Bill answered, looking very sad. "It's just that some parents can't deal with it, they actually abandon their children if they get turned very young.

"That's horrible!" Hermione said. Fleur cuddled baby Dominique to her and glared daggers at the very idea.

"You have to understand it was one thing when he was biting nine and ten year-olds, but now he's going after really little ones toddlers even. They don't have any understanding of what they've become, or how dangerous it is. They need special care that most parents just aren't able to give. Mum ... I know you've been on the outs with her lately, Hermione, and I agree she's been pretty awful to you, but she's doing a wonderful thing at the kids shelter. She really cares for those poor kids."

"It's because of you, isn't it? She can't help thinking about how close it came to her own children," Hermione said.

"She hasn't said, but I think so, yes. I think it's good for her. I've been worried about Mum. She's never really gotten over Fred's death. I thought she was finally starting to cheer up a bit, but the last few weeks she's gotten worse."

"What is she doing?"

"She's sad a lot; she doesn't seem to be taking joy in the good things and she harps on the bad ones. She goes on about you leaving Ron and Charlie refusing to settle down."

"That's sad, but it seems typical for a long as I've known her," Hermione told him.

"It's just some of the things she says don't make any sense, and she'll pop out with things at the strangest times. Like last week she got all sniffy and said Snape should be making Wolfsbane for the orphanage."

"Snape? But he's been dead for years!"

"I know, and so does Mum. It was just weird."[Mr

"Have you thought about having her see someone? Maybe at St. Mungo's?" Hermione asked.

"If we could think of a way to get her to agree. Last time we suggested it she said if we really cared about her we'd have stayed by poor George at the final battle instead of gallivanting around."

Hermione stared at Bill in shock. "I'm sorry, Bill; I hope she starts to get better soon. She's seeing a lot of Mrs. Malfoy lately. Maybe your mum will listen better to someone outside the family. Maybe you could talk to her?"

Bill considered. "I thought the Malfoys were just sucking up all this time, but you are right, Mrs Malfoy and Mum seem to be close lately. Mrs. Malfoy even gave her a bracelet, as a thank you for her kindness to Draco. Mum wore it all last week while she was here. I see Mrs. Malfoy at Gringotts from time to time, I'll try to have a word. Thanks, Hermione."

* * *

"I see Lavender has been teaching you to dance," Hermione remarked to Ron as he turned her carefully around the floor. It was Hannah and Neville's wedding reception, and she was having a good time. The wedding had been lovely, and the party was spilling over with the bride and groom's happiness.

"Yeah, she doesn't like me to embarrass her so she's made me take lessons," Ron said. "We go together though, and it's been kind of fun," he admitted.

He was not going to dance like a Malfoy any time soon, Hermione thought, but it was nice not to be in fear for her toes. It was even safe to let him lead without worrying about collisions. What a pity he couldn't have learned while they were actually dating, she thought a bit wistfully. As Ron pivoted her, she gazed around the room at the many couples. Blaise and Seamus were looking particularly striking together, she thought. Neville had stood up for Seamus at their commitment ceremony, and Hannah had told her all about it. After they had exchanged rings and taken their vows, the lights that had flared green and red had made it look like Christmas. Hermione made a note to herself to dance with both of them and pay her compliments.

"How's your family, Ron? I heard from Bill that your mother is doing volunteer work?"

"That's right, at the werewolf orphanage. We think it's good for her to get out. Listen, Hermione, I'm sorry about what she said to you the other week. I think she'd had a bit much to drink."

"I know; it's okay, Ron. It was so sad how she was running on about Fred like that. I had hoped her volunteer work would get her out and thinking about other things more."

"We did too, but she's getting worse lately. She actually said if Moody had been there, he'd have saved Fred. It almost sounded like she blamed him for Fred's death. "

"She's been saying a lot of strange things lately. Have you considered … well, getting her help?"

"Bill tried, he offered to bring her to a Healer himself, but she insisted she's perfectly fine."

"Bill was going to talk to Narcissa, we thought Molly might listen to her friend better, do you know if he did?"

"He tried, but Narcissa said there isn't anything wrong with Molly that a nice shopping trip wouldn't cure, and offered to take her."

"Maybe she's right, and she only needs distracting away from her family for a bit. I'd send my best but, well, just tell your family I'm thinking of them, okay?"

When the dance was over, Ron walked her around the edge of the room towards their table, but she got caught up in conversation with Augusta Longbottom along the way, so he left her and went back to Lavender.

* * *

It was a dark, moonless night, which is rather overkill in Knockturn Alley, but the man waiting in the shadows there was meticulous about such things. If there had been moonlight, it might have shone off the multitude of silver spangles adorning his violet robe, or glinted on the half-moon spectacles perched on his nose. He pushed his long grey beard over his shoulder to make sure his hands were free and waited.

The alley was damp, smelly, and strewn with garbage. It led to the back door of one of the seediest pubs in Wizarding Britain.

He gripped his wand and tensed at the sound of footsteps, but did not move. There were two sets of footsteps, a couple walking. He relaxed a bit and returned to waiting.

After a long while, the pub door could be heard opening, and a single set of footsteps sounded on the cobbles of Knockturn Alley. They turned the corner into the alley and there was a dim glow of wandlight. The grey bearded man saw the glow brighten as came closer, the wand held by a hooded figure in a dark robe. He readied himself.

The figure came closer and slipped the hood down.

"You! What are you doing he...?"

"Avada Kedavra!"

The cracked walls and the garbage around the man lit momentarily in a flash of green light, then he slumped forward to the floor of the alley, which was once again in total darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Mid morning in Diagon Alley, Hermione sat at her desk, or more accurately, leaned back with her feet up reading another journal. The article was on magical forensics of hair, with particular regard to identifying lycanthropes. Fascinated, Hermione turned the page, but her reading was disturbed by the entrance of visitors to the reception room outside.

She heard Harry and Draco greet Hannah, who knew to show them right in. Hermione hastily sat up at her desk and slipped her stockinged feet into her shoes. She looked expectantly at them as they entered her office.

"Hullo, Hermione."

"Good morning, Harry. Draco. You're here on business, I presume?"

"That's right, Hermione," Harry told her. "A case has come up, and the MLE needs your particular skill set. There was a body found this morning; we're pretty sure it was the Killing Curse. Based on the identity, we think the case is going to be pretty hot, and will need the best minds available. Can you come?"

"Who's corpse is it?"

"Albus Dumbledore," Harry told her.

Hermione barely blinked before answering, "Snape did it.

"That will be two hundred Galleons. My minimum billable time is an hour, so if you have anything else, you might as well ask me."

"Hermione, the body is fresh, not dead eight years. You'd better come see."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Really? I guess I better had, then. You don't really think it's him, do you?"

"I haven't been there, but I don't see how it's possible. I ... we both saw him die."

Hermione nodded. "So, transfiguration or illusion then, or possibly..."

Standing up from her desk, she took the witch's robe from the rack and threw it over her office clothes, then took her gloves and handbag from her drawer and went to the outer office, followed by Harry and Draco.

"Hannah, I'm going with these gentleman to a crime scene, please call Hector and have him meet me at..." She turned to Harry and looked questioningly.

"Knockturn Alley, by the Witch's Tit," Harry said.

"By the Witch's Tit, then." Hermione said. "Have a seat here and wait a moment, Harry; I need to get a few things to bring with me."

Harry and Draco sat in the comfortable chairs in the outer office, while Hermione went back into her office and returned with a book, flipping through it as she walked. Finding what she wanted, she marked the place with a scrap of paper and shoved it into her bag. "Let's go."

* * *

The three of them turned together from Diagon to Knockturn Alley, towards the pub. Hector, Hermione's favorite photographer for these sorts of occasions, was already waiting for her near two trainee Aurors who had been dispatched to guard the crime scene. Harry nodded to them, and they stepped back to allow Hermione and the Aurors into the alley. Hermione beckoned Hector to follow them.

About the middle of the alley lay a crumpled heap of purple and grey. Approaching more closely, Hermione could see that it was indeed a body that looked exactly as she remembered Professor Dumbledore in life. She'd seen him wear that very robe countless times at school. He was lying prone, and his face was partly hidden by his hair and beard, so she couldn't see it very clearly. His right arm was out to the side, with a wand still in it; his left hand was under his body.

She turned to look up at Harry and Draco. Harry was obviously shaken, and Draco looked like he might be sick at any moment.

"Is that... the Death Stick?" Hermione asked in a shaken voice.

"Can't be," Harry said. "He wouldn't be dead now."

"Why not, he had it before and he was killed," Hermione answered. "At least, I think he was."

"Harry and I were both there," Draco answered, "He was dead. Snape..."

Hermione stepped aside for Hector to take pictures; she wanted them from all possible angles before disturbing anything.

"That's odd," Harry said distractedly, looking at Dumbledore's feet where they stuck out from the hem of his robe.

"What is?"

"His socks match."

"Hmm. So they do. Be sure to get a picture of that, Hector. Can I turn him, Harry?"

Harry nodded, then took a deep breath. "Unless you want me to," he offered gallantly.

"It's okay, I'm not the squeamish type," Hermione said and squatting down, not wanting to kneel in the filth of the ally, took the body by the shoulder and turned it over onto its back. That was Albus's face all right. Her brow furrowed in concentration, then she reached down and pushed up both sleeves. "Look!"

"I see arms," Harry said.

"Exactly. Two of them. His arm was cursed when he died, remember?"

"That's right! From the ring," Harry answered. "What do you think happened?"

"This can't be Albus Dumbledore," Hermione said seriously. Standing, she reached into her bag and took out the book she'd shoved in it before leaving. Ignoring Harry and Draco, she flipped it open to the place she'd marked and read it over, looking up from time to time at the corpse before them.

Sticking the journal back in her bag and handing it to Draco to hold for her, she took her wand and faced the corpse. Concentrating carefully, she moved her wand in the motions described in the journal and recited an incantation under her breath.

The body before them shimmered, and started to change shape, becoming shorter and more muscled. One leg vanished into the robe, and the face became scarred and worn, an eye and part of the nose vanishing. In a few moments they all recognized whose body was before them...

"Mad-Eye Moody!" Harry and Draco said in unison. Hermione stared with them.

Hector piped up, "Have we really just gone from one fresh corpse that should have been years rotted, but isn't, to a different one? Wicked!"

Hermione rolled her eyes but answered. "Yes, Hector, that about sums it up."

"What now, gentlemen?" She asked, turning to Harry and Draco. "It would appear that Alastor Moody has not been dead all these years. It is very odd, but I find it more plausible than that the Headmaster was alive. You saw Alastor fall, Harry, but you didn't see him die. What is wildly strange is that he was wearing Albus's clothing and had transformed himself with Polyjuice Potion at the time he was killed."

"How can it be Polyjuice? It would have worn off by now and we'd have just found Moody's body in Dumbledore's clothes," Harry asked.

"I read an article in a journal on magical theory a few months ago. It included an abstract on experiments done with Polyjuice and lab animals. Apparently, if the subject dies before the potion wears off, the change stays permanently unless it is countered. The working theory is that the potion draws on the drinker's magic so Polyjuice wouldn't work for a Muggle at all, by the way to both do and undo the transformation. If the drinker dies, their magic is gone and their body is just stuck that way, unless a live witch or wizard helps it get back.

"Of course the author only experimented on animals, so he could only speculate on the effect in humans. I'll have to write to the journal that his theory was correct."

"But if the potion needs magic, how did it work on animals?"

"He used puffskeins and the like."

"How did he get a puffskein to drink the potion?"

"You probably don't want to know. Are you gentleman finished with me? Do you need me to keep working, or will the MLE handle it from here?"

Harry and Draco looked at each other. Harry, as the more senior Auror, responded for the team.

"I think we'll want your help checking Moody's body for evidence. Nobody even knew he was alive; we don't know where he lived or why he'd want to stand around Knockturn Alley in the middle of the night pretending to be Albus Dumbledore."

"All right, then. Hector, we'll need pictures of the new body, please."

Hector repeated what he'd done before, snapping pictures of Moody from all angles. When he was finished, Hermione closed Moody's eyes, then examined him closely. She found a clot of mud stuck to the side of his shoe which didn't match the dirt of the alley and scraped it into a sample jar for testing.

* * *

Several hours later, Hermione stood in her lab with her blouse rumpled and her hair hanging in strings from sweat. She pushed it behind her and straightened her back at the sound of someone entering the outer office, and Hannah Abbot's voice greeting him.

"Miss Granger is in the lab, Mr. Potter; if you'll wait a moment, I'll see if she can step out?"

Hermione stepped out. "It's okay, Harry, I'm done in here for now. I'll tell you what I've learned, but it doesn't help much."

"That's okay, I've got some information for you that might help."

"Good, I could use some," Hermione told him, smiling. "Come into my office."

Harry followed Hermione into her sanctum and sat down in one of the chairs at her desk while she walked around and sat behind.

"You first, Harry."

"Sure. Ginny and I had dinner at the Burrow last night, and we told how you'd discovered Moody's body. You'll never believe this, Hermione, but Molly knew Moody was alive."

"She knew? And she never told anyone? Why?"

"He made her promise not to. She'd run into him entirely by accident. You've heard how she's been volunteering at this orphanage for were-kids, right?"

"Yes, Bill told me when I was there a few weeks ago. It sounds really good for her."

"It has been, but it does take more than your average parenting skills to help out with the kids there. She said it happened a few months ago. One night one of the kids ran away. She was very little, only four or so, and she wanted to find her real mother. Problem is, it was very close to the full moon."

"Wow." Hermione said. She may not have been on the best of terms with Molly since her breakup with Ron, but there was no questioning her bravery, especially where little ones were concerned.

"Exactly. So anyway, she was chasing after this kid and you know after raising Fred and George, there's no way any four-year-old is going to evade her for long she followed her into a very sketchy neighborhood."

"Why'd the kid go there?"

"Looking for her parents. Molly doesn't think she came from right there, but probably another poor area that looked like it. Anyway, she saw Moody there. Recognized him in an instant. He couldn't see her coming because he'd lost his magical eye."

"So what did he tell her? How did he survive the fall, and how'd he stay hidden?"

"He didn't tell her much, only that he was in hiding from a surviving Death Eater. He made her swear not to reveal that he was still alive. Molly didn't exactly say, but I got the impression she owed Moody a lot and he called in the chit on it."

"I guess I can see her agreeing under those circumstances, although she must have found it very hard keeping the information from you, knowing how you'd felt about Moody's death.

"Yeah," Harry said uncomfortably. "It hurts a bit that she didn't tell me, but I guess I understand. So, what were you going to tell me that you learned?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"The clump of mud from Moody's shoe I broke it up for testing and found a couple of grey hairs embedded in it. I had just finished the protocols when you came in."

"And?"

"They are werewolf hairs."

"Wow, that's... interesting," Harry said, sounding as confused as Hermione felt.

"Interesting, yes, but I don't know how much of a lead. "

"Hey," Harry said. "Maybe it means he was around the neighborhood of that orphanage recently?"

Hermione brightened. "That could be. In that case, maybe he shopped regularly in the area Molly met him. He must have gotten his Polyjuice Potion somewhere, or the ingredients to make it, from a dodgy apothecary. Do you know where it was she met him?"

"Yes, in the town a few miles from Shell Cottage. Draco and I will go, or maybe I'll send Draco alone. He'll have better luck with dodgy shopkeepers than you or I, and it will help keep your bill to the Ministry in bounds," Harry told her with a wink.

Hermione smirked. "Take a photograph of Moody with you he probably wasn't using his right name and ask if anyone's seen him.

"That much I can figure out," Harry told her, rolling his eyes, but smiling. "I'll come back with a report as soon as we learn anything."

* * *

Harry didn't return, but he did send an owl. _One of the Ministry owls_, Hermione thought, with a pang of grief for Hedwig. She gave the owl a treat from the dish she kept by the window to cover her regular correspondence, retrieved the roll of paper from its leg, and sat back at her desk to read it.

_Hermione, we have a lead on Moody. Draco found a guy at a black-market shop who admitted to recognizing the picture. You were right, he'd been buying boomslang skin. The shopkeeper knew him as Jack Cameron._

_Unfortunately, the trail goes cold there. 'Cameron' always paid cash and picked up his supplies in person. I've checked the Ministry records, and that name isn't listed in any of the registries not for property, or employment records, or anything. There's no Gringotts' account under that name either. He must have been using a different alias for his regular living, but I don't know how we're going to learn what it was._

Hermione leaned back at her desk, tapping her cheek with the rolled up note. She had a few resources the Ministry didn't. _No point wasting time_, Hermione thought, standing. She went to the fireplace and tossed a handful of Floo powder in. "Granger residence," she announced, and stepped through to her parents living room.

Hermione's parents had been understandably shocked and upset when she returned their memories. They had been estranged for some time, but that was years ago now. The Grangers had returned to England, and Hermione was again on good terms with them.

Over tea, she asked her father for help finding a reputable Muggle investigative agency. He didn't know offhand, but had a dental patient who was a criminal attorney. A few phone calls later, and Hermione had an appointment with Michael Cox at his office for the next day.

As it turned out, Michael found Moody via the dustbins which Hermione thought rather ironic. He had to pay council tax, which included emptying the bins, so he was on the electoral role.

It had taken several weeks; Jack Cameron was not exactly an uncommon name, and with Moody being the paranoid sort, he'd have paid cash as much as possible. Michael had had to visit quite a few council offices to review the records as they weren't online. He had found three Jack Camerons who seemed to be likely candidates, reclusive and with no known means of income. Two he observed and photographed; Hermione held the pictures of two strangers in her hands. Michael was not able to find the third Jack Cameron; no one entered or left the remote hunting cabin in Cornwall which was his legal residence.

It had all amounted to quite a bit of travel and work, which Hermione was thankful she didn't have to do herself. She mentally translated the figure into Galleons and added it to her growing bill for the Ministry. Hermione then wrote up the results so far and sent an owl to Harry.

Harry and Draco arrived in Hermione's office shortly after receiving her owled message. They brought a detailed map of the area surrounding Moody's cabin.

Hermione was putting together a sampling kit when they arrived, and told them she had owled Hector to come join them. When he arrived, they Apparated together to the vicinity of the address and walked up to the door.

It took Hermione the better part of an hour, with Harry and Draco's help, to dismantle the wards. Eventually they succeeded and were virtually certain that all the traps were now dormant. The three looked at each other, then Harry opened the door. When nothing happened, they stepped out of the bright sunshine and into the gloomy cabin. Nothing untoward happened as they stood waiting for their eyes to adjust to the gloom. When she could see, Hermione gasped in shock.

The entire cabin looked like some weird shrine to Severus Snape.

Every available wall surface had photographs and newspaper clippings pinned to it. Hermione turned slowly in place. Everywhere she looked, Snape sneered at her, or smirked, or just stared with fathomless eyes. Most of the pictures were clipped from the _Daily Prophet_ and still attached to articles about him how he had murdered Albus Dumbledore, his career as Headmaster, his tragic demise on the day of the final battle. Tragic in the sense that it deprived the Wizarding world of the satisfaction of trying him and condemning him to life without parole in Azkaban, according to the articles immediately following the battle. After those came the exoneration. Harry had shown Snape's memories to Kingsley and had spoken for him, as had others. When all the evidence had come to light, Snape had received an Order of Merlin, First Class, Posthumous.

She'd read all these articles, of course, when they'd been published. She'd grieved, first for Albus, and then for Snape. Even if he'd been guilty, he'd met the most horrible end. She'd felt almost... bereft at the time. When his medal had been awarded, she'd actually cried.

Harry and Draco were both staring around at the walls, equally stunned.

Hermione shook her head. It was just bizarre to see the life of Snape laid out like this in chronological order. _ But... wait... they_ were _in order. There was his death, and his Order of Merlin, and ... some more to the right of it._ No more newspaper articles; over there it was photographs and handwritten notes. Hermione walked slowly towards that wall, her heart thudding in her chest. There was a photograph of a tall, thin dark-haired man in trousers and a shirt standing in a garden outside a cottage on a windswept bit of landscape. The man didn't move, it was a Muggle photograph. He looked extremely familiar, despite the setting and garb. Hermione removed the thumbtack and looked at the back. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the date there April 2003.

Hermione turned to meet Harry and Draco's eyes, they could both see the shock in hers. "Snape... he's alive!"


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione opened the window to let in the Ministry owl. After giving the bird his treat, she left the window open for the spring breeze, tearing open the envelope as she walked back to her desk.

It contained a check from the MLE, paying the massive bill she'd sent them for her work on the Moody case. She gave it to Hannah to deposit and returned to her desk.

Several hours later, Hannah found her still sitting there when she stepped in to say she was leaving for the day. "I deposited that check at Gringotts for you, Miss Granger, and here is your appointment list for tomorrow."

"Thank you, Hannah, good night," Hermione told her. When Hannah had left, she returned to her desk. She'd tried to work, but had been unable to concentrate. All she could think about was Snape, and that check. It felt like blood money.

They had searched Moody's cabin carefully and found a trove of notes, maps, and plans. The picture they had put together was eerie and tragic. It seemed that Moody had not been killed in the battle over Little Whinging, but had chosen to feign his death and go into hiding. He had apparently prepared for this eventuality with some care during the preceding year. He was convinced Severus Snape was a loyal Death Eater, and he wanted to be the one to bring him down. He had not believed for a moment that Snape was dead; he had devoted his life to searching for him and, two years previously, had found him.

Apparently turning Snape over to the ministry would not satisfy Moody's feelings. He wanted Snape to suffer, and to be afraid. He'd been disguising himself as Albus Dumbledore and _haunting_ Snape. It looked like Moody had wanted to drive him mad. Hermione wondered if he'd been at all successful.

In any case, Harry and Draco had reported their findings to the MLE, which had come to the obvious conclusion that Moody had made a fatal error on his last attempt at scaring Snape, and been killed by him. The MLE had thanked her for her assistance; tracking and catching Dark Wizards was a job for the Aurors, and they could handle it from here. She had sent them a very large bill for her time, which was now paid. It was over. Whatever happened to Snape wasn't her fault. Why, then, did she feel so guilty?

Hermione was startled from her wallowing by the sound of a knock on the outer door. Hannah had closed it but not set the wards since Hermione was still in the office. She sat up and slipped her feet into her shoes. Picking up her wand, she opened both doors and called to the visitor to step in.

An elegant figure walked into Hermione's office in response to her call and sat gracefully in her guest chair.

Hermione hid her surprise. This wouldn't be a social call, not without anyone here to notice and be impressed. "Mr. Malfoy. You have business for me, I presume?"

Cool grey eyes surveyed her unnervingly. "Your reputation for integrity is well known to me, Miss Granger. Before I discuss my business with you, I need to be certain that you will not become subject to a conflict of interest." Hermione wasn't easily unnerved; she waited patiently for Lucius to clarify.

"Are you presently under retainer, or any contract to the Ministry?"

Hermione's eyebrows twitched up despite her best intention to keep a poker face. "I am not," she told him. "They have no retainer with me. I'm sometimes consulted on an ad-hoc basis and was recently on a case for them, but I've just received full payment, and they have notified me my services are not required any further on the matter."

"In that case, Miss Granger, I should like to pay you a retainer for your future services."

"Am I to know what these services will be?"

"Not at this time. I should like to know you are in my employ and available should the need arise, and that you will not knowingly take another client whose interests conflict with mine."

_Well, now. That_ is _interesting_, Hermione thought.

"I see. I must note, Mr. Malfoy, since you have specifically asked about my obligations to the Ministry, that I have a license to maintain, as well as the normal obligations of a citizen. I will not knowingly engage in any illegal activity."

"You are aware that not all acts by the Ministry are strictly legal, are you not, Miss Granger?"

_Miss Granger could hardly be unaware_, Hermione thought wryly. _Not after my year on the run with Undesirable Number One_. Even before Voldemort ran the government, it wasn't the most ethical organization she'd encountered. For that matter, Hermione herself didn't always follow the letter of the law; she kept her own conscience. That didn't mean it would do to let Lucius Malfoy, of all people, trick her into doing something she knew was wrong or that might make her lose her license.

"I cannot condone committing any crime, or assist a criminal from evading the law. That being said," Hermione spoke very carefully, "until there is a conviction, there is a presumption of innocence. Not every individual wanted by the MLE for a crime is guilty of it, and deserves assistance in proving the facts. Will that do, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Indeed, Miss Granger, that is all I would ask of you."

"My rate, Mr. Malfoy, is two hundred Galleons per hour. That rate covers all my normal office expenses photography and lab fees and such. Travel costs and any outside consulting fees I incur would be billed to you. If that is acceptable, the retainer will be five thousand Galleons."

Hermione opened the file drawer in her desk to retrieved a blank retainer contract and slid it across the desk. "You can look that over and return it signed, with payment, whenever you choose."

Lucius read the contract over and said, "This is acceptable. I should like to sign it now, if you don't mind."

Hermione had been half expecting this by now. She handed him a quill and pushed the ink pot over to him. Under Lucius's signature, she added her own and the date. Lucius then filled out a bank draft for five thousand Galleons and handed it to her with a careless ease.

When she took the draft in her hands and had signed on her line, he said, "I assure you, the draft is good. Do you require it to clear Gringotts, or will you consider me your client now?"

"You are my client, Mr. Malfoy, unless Gringotts rejects the draft. If you wish to tell me anything now, in advance of going to the bank, it is up to you."

"I'm willing to take that chance," Lucius said with a smirk as he rose from the chair. "Since you are now in my employ, Miss Granger, I require you to come with me to meet someone. This person will give you all the information available and enlighten you as to the services we will require."

Hermione rose and reached for her robe. "Come with you where?"

"To Malfoy Manor."

She turned and looked back at him, white faced. She looked back at her desk. Was it too late to tear up the draft?

Lucius saw her look and correctly interpreted it. "I apologize deeply for the harm that occurred to you in my home on your last visit. I assure you, you will be perfectly safe."

At Hermione's expression of continued skepticism, he added, "Miss Granger, I have spent the last several years working hard to redeem my reputation and my family's standing with society. I am hardly about to endanger either now."

That made sense to Hermione, it was likely safe to rely on Malfoy's self interest. Shrugging her robe all the way on, she left a note for Hannah with instructions to file the contract and deposit the draft, and what to do if she were not in the office or heard from by Patronus before ten the next morning. Ushering Malfoy out to the landing, Hermione warded the office and allowed him to Apparate them both to the Manor.

* * *

Lucius and Hermione appeared on the grounds near the front entrance to the house with a loud _crack!_, badly frightening a nearby peacock which emitted a loud shriek and a squelchy poop, and hied itself rapidly down the hill to the company of its brethren.

Hermione looked up at Malfoy. "You'd think they'd be used to that by now."

"Family normally Apparate directly into the house," Malfoy answered. "Visitors are prevented from Apparating onto the grounds, and arrive outside the main gate. I wanted to give you a minute to gather yourself before we entered.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, that was very thoughtful," Hermione told him.

Malfoy opened the door for her and ushered her into a spacious foyer, then down a long gallery filled with portraits of witches and wizards in antique clothing, many of whom sported the familiar white-blond hair of her host. Several noses turned up superciliously at Hermione's passing. Malfoy frowned at them in warning, but Hermione merely lifted her own nose into the air and pulled her shoulders back a mite as she strode briskly through.

Past the end of the gallery and halfway down the end of a corridor, Malfoy opened a door for Hermione and ushered her into the library.

Hermione checked and couldn't hold back a small gasp of wonder. The library had a cathedral ceiling with a balcony around the perimeter for accessing the upper shelves of books. A spiral staircase for accessing the balcony coiled in a corner. An impressive wooden desk with a serpent pattern carved into it stood at one end of the room where the light of the large leaded glass window could fall onto it. It was late evening, so the window now stood dark. There were quills, papers, and a cut-crystal ink pot on the desk. Clearly this was where Mr. Malfoy conducted his day to day business.

At the other end of the spacious room was a large stone fireplace, dark now due to the warm season. In front of the fireplace was a love-seat and two wing-back chairs arranged cozily with convenient tables at hand to them. Hermione noticed there was a tray of food bread and cheese, hors d'oeuvres, a bottle of wine, and two glasses.

Noting the number of glasses, one of which was half-filled with wine, Hermione looked closer and noticed a dark figure in the shadows of one of the wing-back chairs.

"Miss Granger," Mr. Malfoy said, drawing her towards the chairs. I have engaged you on behalf of a friend of mine who is in need of your assistance. I don't believe you require an introduction."

As they approached, the figure rose from the chair and turned to them. Hermione recognized, as she was by now expecting to, the very much alive figure of Severus Snape. Of course "not entirely surprised" is a far cry from "fully prepared for, with something witty to say."

Hermione just stood there and stared stupidly until she finally blurted, "Good evening, Professor. It's good to see you looking well."

Hermione wanted to sink when she heard herself, but Snape merely snorted.

"I am no longer a professor, Miss Granger."

"Good evening, then, Mr. Snape," Hermione corrected herself, regathering her composure.

"Please sit, Miss Granger," Malfoy told her, ushering her to the other wing-back chair. "I'm afraid we are keeping you from your dinner, please help yourself," he said, waiving languidly towards the food on the table and pouring her a glass of wine.

Hermione sat and accepted the glass, picking up a piece of bread and cheese from the tray. She _was_ hungry, and taking a moment to have a bite and a sip from her wine gave her a few moments to consider what to say.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Snape, am I to presume you are requesting my assistance because the Ministry is seeking your arrest for the murder of Alastor Moody?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, that should be obvious."

"Did you do it?"

"I did not."

She hadn't really expected him to say he had whether or not it was true, but the formalities must be observed. Would Snape kill, now, when he wasn't being compelled? Under what circumstances? And, how would she ever learn the truth if it wasn't something he wanted her to know?

"May I see your wand a moment, please?" Hermione requested.

He looked at her thoughtfully, but withdrew the wand from its pocket in his robes, turned it dexterously and offered it to her, handle first. Hermione took it from him carefully and, looking at him appraisingly, said, "_Priori Incantatem_." A ghostly knife flew out and mimed chopping some vegetable matter briefly. Hermione repeated the spell and saw a feather something had been levitated. She did this several more times, and found only repeated evidence of household and garden magic of various kinds.

"Miss Granger, you do realize, do you not, that if you continue to do that, eventually Albus _will_ emerge?"

Hermione froze for a moment, staring down at the wand in her hand. She swallowed. The dense ebony felt cool, smooth with wear, and suddenly twice it's natural weight. She sensed the thrum of the dragon heartstring core within. Raising her eyes to his, she turned it again and handed it carefully back. "Indeed."

For the first time in her career, Hermione was starting to feel that she'd gotten herself in over her head. She so wanted to impress this man; she tried to formulate a question that would sound intelligent and to restrain herself from waving a hand in the air.

Lucius filled in the empty silence that had taken over by suggesting Severus tell Hermione how he had come to find the body.

"_You_ found the body? I hadn't heard that, I thought it was Draco."

"I had been meeting Lucius in that pub, I went to the alley to Disapparate when I stumbled across the body of 'Albus Dumbledore'. I knew, naturally, that it could not be Albus. I wanted to remain in solitude, my survival unknown, so I sent an owl to Lucius as soon as I arrived home. Lucius arranged for Draco to find the body and report it."

"How were you so certain it wasn't Albus, in the dark like that?"

"I was perfectly certain he had died several years previously, and this body was fresh. I presumed whoever it was had died under the influence of Polyjuice."

_Good going,_ thought Hermione. _Way to sound even more like an idiot. _ Then she caught his second sentence.

"You suspected Polyjuice? Then you've read the Drake articles too?" Snape nodded, his expression closed. Hermione would very much have liked to discuss them with him a chance to discuss an esoteric subject with Severus Snape as something resembling an equal was ... not exactly a fantasy, but ... _Stick to business, Granger._

"You just left, you didn't want to know who it was?"

"I certainly did, but I did not wish to be linked in the news to yet another murder of Albus Dumbledore."

_Can I just die now?_ Hermione thought.

"I've been living in peace, and I like it that way," Snape concluded.

Hermione thought hard about what he'd said.

"But you knew it wasn't ... why would it ... wait. Please start at the beginning, Mr. Snape. How did you come to survive Nagini? We ... I was certain you had died, or I'd have ..." Hermione's voice lost its sharp professionalism here and she just looked into his eyes, begging for his understanding, his absolution, for having left him there.

This must be some new Snape, softened by freedom from madmen, manipulative headmasters, and dunderheaded students, because he did not attempt to crush Hermione with disdain as she was expecting.

"I quite understand, Miss Granger. I'm sure there was no way to know I was alive. I had taken the precaution of inoculating myself against Nagini's venom, but it was a very near thing. I believe my heart actually stopped briefly.

Lucius and Narcissa came to look for my body. When they realized I yet lived, they brought me secretly back to the manor and kept me hidden while I healed. There was no way to know at first that Potter would work so hard to exonerate my memory. By the time we knew my name was entirely cleared, I found I was happier than I'd ever been, and I had no wish to let anyone know I lived.

With some help from Lucius, I purchased a cottage in a remote part of Scotland and set up a Muggle identity. I've been living there quietly. I have a garden for Potions ingredients, and I do some research. I have kept in contact with the Malfoys, and visit from time to time, but apart from that there is no one in the Wizarding world I wished to speak to.

Hermione didn't say anything; it sounded so sad, and yet he looked better than she'd ever seen him. While he wasn't tan, he'd lost that "plant kept in a closet" look. His movements were more graceful, the inner tension that had always seemed a part of him had eased.

"It sounds lonely to me, but if you've been happy, then, I'm glad," she told him.

"Thank you." He nodded in acknowledgement. "So, I lived quietly in my home, with the entire world ignorant of my survival, until some time in 2003. "

Hermione's ears pricked up. "What happened then?"

"I began to be haunted," Snape said. His eyes didn't change but his nostrils pinched a bit.

"Haunted?" Hermione's eyebrows rose.

"Yes. I would be in the kitchen preparing dinner in the evening, and there would be a glimpse of a robed figure outside. Never any footprints in the morning. If I went about at night, there it would be. "

"Silent?"

"At first ... after a while, it would speak to me sometimes."

"What did it say?"

"It said, _You killed me, Severus._

"You were being haunted by Albus Dumbledore?"

"Well, Alastor Moody pretending to be Albus, although I have only just learned it lately."

"What did you try to do about it?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Why?"

"I rather thought I deserved it."

_Well, I guess I could see how that might be_, Hermione thought in consternation.

Snape took a drink from his wineglass and fiddled with a bit of bread.

"I don't know why I accepted that it was really Albus's spirit, in retrospect of course it is an absurd notion. Guilt, I suppose, combined with Occam's Razor."

"It seemed simpler that it should really be a ghost than that someone would perpetrate such an elaborate hoax on you?"

"Precisely."

"We found hundreds of pictures of you in Moody's house, newspaper clippings and things. He was obsessed with you, Mr. Snape," Hermione said.

Snape made a wry face. "He never entirely trusted me, you know, and he loved Albus very much. I suppose his death sent Moody around the bend for good. He'd have to have been, to want that many pictures of this face," he said, snorting.

Hermione privately disagreed with that sentiment, but left it unsaid.

"The news clippings stopped after your Order of Merlin was awarded, um, posthumously," Hermione told him, "But there were pictures after that, and notes. The first photograph and it was a Muggle photo, by the way, was dated April of 2003."

"I first saw the supposed ghost in October of that year. On Halloween, to be precise," He added, lowering his head and allowing his hair to slip forward

"So that was when Moody first learned Severus was still alive?" Lucius asked.

"That would make sense. Perhaps it ate at him for a while, that Snape should continue to live a contented life, and then it took him a little while to get his plan together."

"He must have had some of Albus's spare clothing from when he stayed with Moody after Fudge tried to arrest him," Snape remarked.

"That's what Kingsley believed too, " Hermione said, "and either a hairbrush, or just bits of hair that clung to the clothing. It still would have taken time to get the rest of the plan together, plus at least a month to brew the Polyjuice."

"And the MLE, naturally, believes Severus must have caught on to him somehow, and killed him to stop it," Lucius said.

"Yes, or possibly that it was self defense, if Moody had attacked him. Only it looked very suspicious that Snape had killed him and just left."

"I didn't kill him."

Hermione turned back to Snape. "I'm only repeating the Ministry's current working theory.  
What did happen that night, if you please?"

"I was meeting Lucius in that pub, we had some business to transact."

"In a pub in Knockturn Alley?" Hermione interrupted.

"Yes, less chance of being recognized, fewer questions asked. They also make a very fine shepherd's pie," Snape answered calmly, then continued.

"We had concluded our business, and our dinner; Lucius went uphill towards Diagon Alley. I stayed to finish my ale, and so we wouldn't be seen leaving together. I then turned down the side alley to take a piss before Apparating." Malfoy made a choked noise, and Hermione looked up.

"What? That makes perfect sense. I hate to Apparate when I ... well, never mind, go on please," she told Snape, who continued gratefully.

"A little way into the alley I lit my wand and saw what looked like Albus's body lying there. All the other appearances had been standing and moving pointing at me, usually. I knelt and touched it to be sure it was real."

"When you touched the body, was it warm?"

"I couldn't say, I only touched the robes."

"Do you know what time it was?"

"About half one in the morning."

"Did you move anything?"

"No, nothing. I just wanted to be assured it wasn't an illusion or spirit of some kind. It felt quite solid. At that point I realized it was quite likely that the specter which had been haunting me had been entirely alive, but was now dead before me. I had no idea who would take so much trouble, and I just wanted clear of it and to be left in peace. I Apparated home and sent an owl to Lucius, who made sure Draco would be checking that alley the next morning."

"And that is all?" Hermione asked.

"It was until the Ministry discovered I was alive and have been trying to find me."

"I apologize for that, Mr. Snape," Hermione said.

"Don't. You were only looking for Moody's murderer. Once you'd found his home, you couldn't alter what was in it. I would like to know, however, are you in agreement? Do you believe I killed him?"

"You must admit that the circumstances, especially leaving the scene, do not look good. However, I have been engaged to attempt to prove your innocence, which is only going to be possible if you didn't actually do it. I won't manufacture evidence or twist the truth. I'm an investigator, not a solicitor; if I come to believe you are guilty, I shall resign from the case."

Snape and Malfoy both nodded in acknowledgement.

"I won't be able to establish an alibi, since you were so near the scene at the approximate time of death. If you are innocent, then someone else has to be guilty, and I have to find that person and prove it. We'd best start with thinking who that could be.

"Moody's murderer can only be someone who knew that both Alastor Moody and Severus Snape were still alive," Lucius remarked.

"Yes," answered Hermione. "Also, since the murderer knew to come to that alley, it has to have been someone who knew about Moody's revenge plan and took advantage of it. Probably someone who had a grudge against Mr. Snape as well as Alastor. Can you make any suggestions, Mr. Snape?"

"I am not aware of anyone except Lucius and his family who knew me to be alive, and I do not suspect them of betraying me."

"That is gratifying, Severus," Lucius remarked with a smile.

Severus snorted and continued. "Not having anyone specific in mind, I would start by researching Death Eaters captured by Auror Moody during his career and who either escaped imprisonment by subterfuge, or were subsequently broken out after the Dark Lord's return. If any such are still alive and at large they would have a grudge against Alastor Moody, and also against me now that my part in the Dark Lord's downfall is publicly known.

Hermione nodded, taking careful notes. "That makes sense, it's a good place to start. I'll work on the Ministry records tomorrow."

Lucius added, "In addition, Moody killed a number of Death Eaters in the line of duty. Possibly one of them has family seeking revenge. They also would not be happy knowing Severus is alive and well."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, I'll check for that too."

Satisfying herself that her notes were complete, Hermione stood and asked if Mr Malfoy preferred she leave by the fireplace or Apparate.

Lucius and Severus both stood as well.

"It has gotten late, and it is a fairly long walk to where you'll be able to Apparate away, please feel free to use the Floo, Miss Granger," Lucius told her, taking down an ornate cloisonne box from the mantel and offering it to her.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, Good evening. Good evening, Mr. Snape." Hermione took a pinch of Floo Powder from the box, and after the wizards had bid her good evening, threw it in, gave her destination, and departed.

* * *

A/N About time Sev showed up. Next, things get complicated. ~evil cackle~


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione emerged from the fireplace into the living room of her flat a moment later, brushing cinders from her robes. The cinders must have clung to her from the Malfoys' fireplace because hers was entirely artificial, without even a gas fire.

Her mind whirled as she washed and readied for bed. Severus Snape alive all these years. She had known it, of course, since finding the photograph in Moody's cabin. However, that is a very different thing from drinking wine with him in the Malfoy library. _Merlin! what a library!_

He had looked well, Hermione thought. More relaxed and comfortable with himself than she had ever seen him before. He hadn't lost his presence though. Hermione wasn't easily impressed by men these days, but she had to admit that Severus Snape still intimidated her a little. She couldn't believe she had forgotten that it was his wand that had killed the real Albus Dumbledore and she had just asked him to hand it over. And, he had given it to her. Hermione felt a thrill down her spine, which she didn't care to analyze too closely.

Next morning, Hermione presented herself at the Ministry offices of the MLE and requested to review the public records. Several dust and spider filled hours later, interrupted by a pleasant lunch with Harry, she had compiled a list of all Death Eaters Alastor Moody had personally been responsible for capturing, cross-indexed by their eventual fate:

died

convicted at large

convicted in prison

found innocent at large

other

The most likely category was the "convicted at large" group, which was also conveniently small. Most of the Death Eaters who had broken out of Azkaban had either been killed in the battle of Hogwarts, or been recaptured in the succeeding seven years and were currently back in Azkaban.

Two names were left. Selwyn and Travers. They were both also currently numbers one and two on the MLE's "Most Wanted" list. Hermione could ask Harry what he could tell her about their currently known whereabouts. He shouldn't tell her, of course, because she wasn't acting on behalf of the MLE at the moment, but he might be able to help her rule out one or the other.

She would also have to call in a favor with Harry in order to work on Mr. Malfoy's suggestion. Auror kill records were not part of the public records at the MLE. They would have been reported in the _Daily Prophet_, of course, but the archives weren't indexed in any kind of helpful way, so Hermione hoped she wouldn't be forced to that recourse.

Meanwhile, her next stop was to meet with Snape at his current home and review her notes so far. He was not connected to the Floo network, so he had agreed to meet her at Malfoy Manor and side-along Apparate her to his home.

Mr. Malfoy made her a polite greeting as entered his library from the Floo. Mr. Snape stood and, nodding to Mr. Malfoy, escorted Hermione through the house and to the front gates.

When they had passed through, she put her arm through his and held on. She felt him turn and the crushing pressure. Then, without the slightest noise or bump, her eyes opened on a rock -filled field and she smelled the ocean. Letting go of her arm, Snape told her, "Come."

Hermione followed down a path to a stone cottage with a thatched roof. He opened the weathered wooden door for her and stepped through after her.

The cottage was bright and pleasant, completely the opposite from what she would have expected. The furniture was plain but well made, and was clearly arranged for the comfort of a single occupant, with one comfortable wing back chair by the fireplace, and one wooden chair by the kitchen table.

Frowning, Snape looked around, brought a small side table into the kitchen and transfigured it into a second chair to match the first. He held it for her to sit, then took the other and asked her, "What have you learned today?"

Hermione showed him her index of all Moody's cases and pointed to the two most likely names.

You can cross off Selwyn," Severus told her.

"Oh?"

"Selwyn was killed by the Dark Lord shortly before attacking Hogwarts."

"Are you certain? His body was never found."

"Snake food," Snape told her succinctly.

Hermione looked sick. "I didn't notice a … er .. bulge."

"You wouldn't, Nagini's digestion was magically enhanced. The Dark Lord liked to use her as his garbage disposal, and she otherwise wouldn't have been large enough. She wasn't an Anaconda."

"Right. Travers, then," Hermione said, firmly turning her mind from the subject. She was secretly very impressed with Snape's ability to discuss the matter with no more sign of discomfort than his normal sour expression.

"What is known of Travers by the Ministry?" Snape asked.

"Only that he was seen fighting on the Death Eaters' side during the battle of Hogwarts, but wasn't among those captured after You Know Who's death. No one has seen him since."

"He has family who might have helped him. If he managed to escape to where Apparition was possible, I expect he'd have gone to one or another of them. Lucius will be able to tell you most precisely which of his relatives he was on the closest terms with and who might have been willing to risk hiding him, and where they live."

"That's a good idea; I'll check with Mr. Malfoy on that." Hermione told him.

Before she could rise and excuse herself, she was startled as the room darkened suddenly, and the house shook as from a blow. She shivered as she realized the temperature had dropped. Looking out the window, she heard the rain hit the walls and smelled saltwater and ozone.

"I'm sorry," Severus told her, "storms can blow in here very quickly; you won't want to Apparate in this."

"Do you think it will last long?"

"No, not coming in so very suddenly. I'd be surprised it if lasted an hour. Would you ... care to have tea with me while you wait it out?"

"Tea would be lovely, thank you," Hermione responded. As Snape put the kettle on and pulled out cups from the cabinet, she looked around the cottage in wonder. The furnishings were spare, but comfortable. Bunches of herbs hung drying in the rafters, adding their scent to the woodsmoke of the fire, the old wood of the house, and the salt tang in the air.

_It must be lonely here,_ Hermione thought to herself, _but so very peaceful. I imagine loneliness doesn't bother him much, and I daresay he's earned the peace._

When Severus poured her tea, she found the smokey Earl Grey was exquisitely made, and complimented the scents surrounding her perfectly. Her eyes widened a little in wonder and appreciation. It was no surprise that the Potions master could brew a perfect pot of tea, but she wouldn't have expected him to have such a sensual side. Stupid of her, really. Of course he would be perfectly in tune with the color and scent and taste of his ingredients and be able to balance them all in harmony. Subtle art and exact science indeed. She looked at him with a new appreciation and snaffled a biscuit to cover her confusion when he caught her eyeing him.

She found, as they talked over tea, that he had kept up with the Wizarding world via the newspaper and the Malfoys. He had been aware of her career from various articles about cases she'd been involved with, so that when Lucius had suggested hiring her, he had not been averse.

In fact, he had had far more opportunity to get used to the idea of an adult Hermione than she had had to get used to an alive Snape.

"Have you been living here the whole time?"

"Since I was well enough to not need care, yes. Lucius helped me buy the property anonymously."

"How are you occupying yourself? I saw the garden are you brewing for yourself or for sale?"

"Some of each; I'm also doing research. I've published several articles on magical forensics, it's likely you've read them.

Suddenly, the knut dropped. "_You_ are Phineas Drake!"

He nodded his head, eyes glinting.

"Of course I read them; it was your technique I used to identify Moody's body. I'm sure you are happy to know that your results are applicable to humans after all although I suppose, given the circumstances, you might have preferred it didn't work."

"The irony had not escaped me, Miss Granger," Snape answered her with a wry quirk of an eyebrow.

Oddly, it made Hermione feel a bit less guilty for having exposed Severus's secret existence to the world.

They spent the rest of the hour discussing his research, and practically before they knew it, the storm had passed by. Saying a surprisingly reluctant good by from the front doorstep, Hermione Apparated home.

* * *

Hermione was an investigator, not an Auror, and knew better than to go chasing after dark wizards herself. Her year on the run with Harry and Ron had quite cured her of any such tendencies along with any liking for mushrooms. She determined that the best use of the information she had received from Mr. Malfoy would be to trade it to Harry for information on who Moody was known to have killed in the line of duty.

To that end, she arranged to meet him in the Leaky Cauldron after work. Over beers, she slipped him the neatly lettered parchment on which she'd copied Mr. Malfoy's information and accepted one covered in Harry's hasty scrawl in return. There were surprisingly few names, she noted. She knew about Rosier, of course, but the other names were unfamiliar to her. Harry had given her the full name and approximate date of the deaths for each. That would be enough to look up the details in the _Daily Prophet_ archives. No one need question how she came by the information so Harry wouldn't get in trouble.

Harry, meanwhile, looked over the list of relatives and other information regarding Travers. "Is this trustworthy information, Hermione?"

"I wouldn't waste your time with it if I thought otherwise, Harry."

"But you can't tell me how you got it?"

"I'm sorry, Harry, that's privileged."

"You see, any other time we'd have had a team get right on this; Travers is on our wanted lists, and we haven't had a good lead in two years. However, almost the entire Auror Office is working on tracking down Snape."

Hermione understood what Harry was saying; Moody had been one of their own. It made her position rather precarious. If the Auror Office discovered she knew Snape's whereabouts and had concealed it from them, she would have a difficult time getting their cooperation in the future. Harry would probably understand, but not the rest of them, and most definitely Ron wouldn't.

She pointed out, gently, that Travers would likely have had a grudge against Snape, after it had come out that Snape was Dumbledore's man all along, and that he certainly had one against Moody. Harry listened, but repeated that he couldn't promise much.

Hermione sighed. She was going to have to trust that Harry would follow up on her lead, and meanwhile see what else she could do with her list. She checked her appointment schedule with Hannah and blocked out the next morning to look in the _Daily Prophet_ archives.

* * *

The offices of the _Daily Prophet_ were a familiar place to her by now. They had a small reading room set aside for journalists, other writers, and the occasional investigator doing research. It was conveniently far from Rita Skeeter's office.

This was where she'd met Hector; he had been shopping some freelance photographs and they'd gone out for coffee. She liked his work important details were in focus and his human subjects were caught in poses that said something about them. Most of the _Daily Prophet's_ subjects were just being vapid. That was probably why he was having trouble selling to them, but it was perfect for her. She'd cracked more than one case by studying the living figures in his crime scene photographs carefully; their behavior could be very revealing.

It was a pity there would be no such break in the Moody case, Hermione though, lugging an armful of papers to a vacant reading desk. She wished the Magical world would come up with a good substitute for computers with scanners and OCR or at the very least, microfiche.

Hermione got out the slip of paper she'd received from Harry in the pub and read the names:

Justin Slepworth - August 1972 Celia Criwell - April 1978 Evan Rosier - November 1980

She'd never heard of the first two, Rosier had married one of Sirius's cousins, she'd seen his name on the tapestry at Grimmauld Place. Starting with the earliest, Hermione pulled the old _Daily Prophet_s and started reading.

She finally stopped reading when her stomach would no longer give her any peace. Standing, she stretched to straighten out her spine. She was feeling discouraged, nothing she had read suggested any kind of promising lead. Moody had killed surprisingly few Dark wizards during his career; he'd really been quite good at bringing them in alive. He'd retired after the first war,  
and hadn't killed anyone while working for the Order either unless during the battle over Little Whinging, but none were known to be attributed to him.

Hermione left the papers she'd been reviewing on the cart for the staff to return to the archive and gathered her notes.

That evening, Hermione sat comfortably on her sofa with Crookshanks next to her, a glass of wine in her hand, and her notes in her lap as she considered them.

Neither Criwell nor Slepworth had had much family remaining, and those few were doing their level best to appear respectable these days. The deaths had been so long ago, it seemed unlikely the families would suddenly be up and bent on revenge now.

Rosier might have been more likely, he died "in service" after the first war. He had not turned coat and tried to claim Imperius. Either his family, or other Death Eaters remaining in hiding might have avenged him. Just like the Aurors concentrating their efforts to catch someone who'd killed one of their own, the remaining loyal Death Eaters might feel the same way if they had only known he had survived.

Hermione still felt Travers was her best lead. She hoped Harry would be able to do something with the information she'd given him, but perhaps she should help him along. Hermione took out the slip of parchment containing Lucius Malfoy's elegant scrawl. He had wanted her to keep his involvement confidential. She supposed he was afraid of reprisals against his family if they learned he was assisting in their capture. If so, he was taking a risk to help his friend. _When did Lucius Malfoy become admirable?_ she wondered. _Were he and Severus that close? Did he owe Severus a debt?_ On the face of it, it seemed rather the other way. Severus owed Lucius his life, at the very least. Was Lucius repaying an old debt, or had Severus incurred a new one?

Shaking her head, Hermione returned to the matter at hand, Travers.

Skimming the papers from the last year or so, her eye lit on his name, and she read:  
blockquote July 14 2004 - The Office of Magical Law Enforcement found a lead on the ring of criminals responsible for the majority of Dark Arts potions ingredients found today on the black market in Northern Europe. Two stores of stocks were found and destroyed, and three members of the gang have been imprisoned in Azkaban. The ringleader, escaped Death Eater Argo Travers, eluded capture. It is likely he will reassemble the gang and continue operations. Magical folk living in the vicinity of Tinworth are advised to keep their eyes open and immediately advise the MLE of any signs of these dangerous criminals.  
/blockquote

Suddenly, several facts sifted together in her mind: The village near shell cottage contained the apothecary where Moody had been buying his Polyjuice ingredients. It was likely to carry ingredients from Travers' black-market ring. It was possible Travers had seen Moody there, or that the shopkeeper had twigged and told him. That could give both motive and opportunity.

It might be enough to turn the Auror Office's attention to Travers as a likely suspect. Probably not, though, they were really very happy with having Snape as prime suspect. She'd need to get something more than interesting coincidence.

Lucius probably had contacts, or at least contacts who had contacts, with the underworld of Dark Arts equipment and supplies. He was extremely unlikely to admit to it, however, even to help Severus, Hermione considered. He'd been working too hard at severing those ties and cleaning up his reputation to risk being connected with them publicly in any way.

Hermione decided to start with Severus. Even in hiding, Severus was likely well tuned in to Dark potions ingredients and where the gang might be obtaining them. It might be time for another visit to the cottage on Lewis. Hermione returned to her office and sent her owl to set up an appointment.

* * *

Sitting in Severus's kitchen once again, Hermione sipped her tea and gave a blissful sigh.

"I should have known you'd brew tea the way you brew potions."

Severus didn't ask what she meant, just smirked, and passed the scones.

"I read the article you sent," he told her. "It does seem to be a likely lead."

"What can you tell me about it what kinds of ingredients are they likely to be trading in, and where would they obtain them? If we can find their source, we might be able to trap them."

"This article doesn't say, but there have been other articles in the news over the last few years regarding them. They specialize in body parts of magical creatures, especially werewolves."

"Werewolves?" Hermione repeated. "But that means humans; they aren't just racketeers, they're murderers!"

"Not under the law, Miss Granger," Severus told her.

Hermione was appalled. "You mean someone could have killed Remus, in his human form, and they wouldn't have been punished?"

"Not for murder," Severus responded. "If they'd broken him down for ingredients, they'd risk a stint in Azkaban for trafficking in illicit goods."

"Oh, Merlin! The orphanage..." Hermione trailed off, her eyes wide.

"What orphanage?"

"Molly Weasley has been volunteering her time lately helping out at an orphanage for abandoned werewolf children. It's also near Tinworth. Those kids go missing sometimes; they are too little to know better, and run off looking for their parents. You don't suppose..."

"I think it very likely," he answered, his face hardening into the lines she remembered from her childhood. _He must be very angry._

"Take your notes to Mr. Potter, Miss Granger. This is not the sort of thing you should be personally investigating."

"Under any other circumstances, they'd take this and run with it, they really want to catch this ring. Unfortunately, the Auror Office is devoting all their resources to catching Moody's murderer namely you," Hermione told him, with a bite in her tone.

"You can point them to the likelihood that Travers is the actual murderer, that should get their attention."

"All I have for that is motive and the possibility that he was aware of Moody's identity, that isn't enough to make them divert resources from your investigation I already tried. I need something more."

"Let me confer with Lucius and Draco. Lucius may have some ideas, and Draco has access to the Auror Office's case files on the potions ring."

"Shouldn't I be there?"

"I think not. While Lucius trusts your competence, I believe he finds your ties to the MLE too close for comfort when it comes to revealing ties he would prefer be kept buried."

"Mine are too close? Draco is a trainee Auror!"

"And also his son. Draco knows how to keep his personal and professional loyalties aligned."

"I see," Hermione responded. She wasn't happy, but she'd have to live with it. Finishing her tea, she rose and said goodbye.

Two days later, an unfamiliar owl tapped at her window for admittance. Reading the message at her desk, Hermione's eyes widened.

_"Mr Travers is in the habit of communicating with his subordinates in the back alley behind the apothecary where Draco discovered Moody's alternate identity. Suggest to Harry that the MLE set up Apparition traces there. If they are still not interested, suggest to them that I am likely be involved with the ring and they might catch me. - SS_

_Now_ that_ was a brilliant idea,_ Hermione thought. It would get them moving, and of course Snape wouldn't be in any danger as he really had nothing to do with the ring.

Hermione picked up her wand from the desk and lit a fire in the fireplace.

_There's just one problem with it, _she thought,_ It won't turn up any real evidence. If Travers doesn't confess, we're still nowhere._

Tossing the note into the flames, she made sure it burned entirely to ash.

_I might, however, be able to turn up evidence if I check for it myself. If there is frequent Apparition there to or from the same place, there will be traces. If there are dustbins, so much the better. All manner of useful things can be learned from a dustbin._

Hermione turned to her bookshelf, took out several issues of her forensics journals, and began flipping through them looking for articles she recalled, then returned to her desk and started making notes.


	5. Chapter 5

Shaking off a feeling of unease, Hermione turned the corner around the building to the alley beyond. It was dank and trash-strewn. The bright sunshine beaming down through the narrow space between the buildings lit every charming detail of flaking paint, rusting grates, and unidentifiable damp patches and warmed the dustbins, allowing a sour odor of spoiled milk to rise out of them and fill the surrounding space. Hermione was thankful that was all they smelled of.

As she was examining the trash for magical traces, she heard a scrape of a footstep. Her head flashed up to the entrance of the alley. She saw no-one, but as she stared her experienced eyes caught the telltale shimmer of Disillusionment. Bracing herself, she cast a soundless _'Finite Incantatem_' in the direction of the shimmer. To her astonishment, Severus appeared, looking like a storm cloud bearing down.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione was embarrassed to hear her voice squeak.

"Following you, idiot girl! Don't you know how dangerous it is for you to be going after Travers alone? Didn't I tell you to send a note to Potter and stay out of it?

"I'm not going after Travers, I'm just looking for evidence. I'm hoping to find something here that will positively link him to Moody, or at least to the potions ring." She pointed back to the trash heap in the back of the alley with her wand.

"Because you think he's been here frequently, which means he could be back at any time."

"It's broad daylight!"

"I was able to come."

"Yes. And speaking of dangerous, what are you going to do if you get caught? Do you really want another stretch in Azkaban?"

"It would be better than hearing you'd been killed!" He snapped back. He had walked down the alley as they were speaking and now stood toe to toe with her though not nose to nose as his was a good four inches above hers. The energy between them crackled.

"I've been doing just fine on my own for several years, while nobody even knew you were alive, Severus Snape, and I won't have you drop in and try to treat me like some frilly …"

"How adorable," The argument came to a crashing halt at the sound of the third voice. They whipped around simultaneously and, side by side, faced Fenrir Greyback.

Quicker than thought, Snape's wand was drawn, and he'd pushed Hermione firmly behind him.

She took a deep breath. She still didn't much like being treated like a girl, but she had to admit the gesture was heroic. Especially knowing what she did about Severus's feelings regarding werewolves. She was annoyed with herself to realize she was suddenly very aroused. _Not the time, Granger_, she told herself sternly, getting a firmer grip on her wand and eyeing Greyback carefully from around Snape's edge.

"She looks tasty, Severus, although a bit long in the tooth for my taste," Fenrir said, his voice gravelly and a leer in his eye. "Why don't you just step aside? I'll share..."

Hermione couldn't see Severus's face, but she saw the elbow of his wand arm move an inch or so away from his body. Before anyone else could move, she heard the crack of Apparition and saw Travers appear behind Greyback _Wonderful_.

Hermione leaned up and whispered into Severus's ear, "You go for Travers." She could see his disagreement in the tightening of his back, but knew he couldn't stand there arguing with her. Behind the cover of his back, she pulled a small revolver from her bag. She wasn't a very good shot, but this gun had been charmed for accuracy. She took it in both hands, sprang sideways and into a crouch, and shot straight for Greyback's heart.

As soon as she moved, both assailants eyes were drawn to her. Severus took the moment they were distracted to hex Travers with a body bind.

"Foolish Mudblood," Fenrir snarled, laughing, when he saw Hermione's tiny gun, but it was cut off as the first bullet hit his heart. He roared when he felt the burn of it and dropped to the ground. Severus kept his wand trained on the werewolf, but he could do no more than writhe and whimper for a few moments before going suddenly limp, sphincters loosening in unfeigned death.

Severus turned and looked at Hermione, who had lowered the gun and was panting hard.

"You have silver bullets in that thing?"

"Of course; why else would I choose a gun over a wand?"

"And I thought I was going to protect you," Severus said. He spoke lightly, but there was an unnatural blankness to his expression.

"You did. You gave me cover to get the gun out, and you took Travers out of the equation," Hermione answered, and "Thank you," she added, meaning it.

It was true, she wouldn't have been able to fumble the gun out of her bag in time before Fenrir attacked her if she'd been by herself, and she certainly couldn't have taken both the werewolf and Travers. She started to shake a little as realization of how close a call it had been started to sink in.

There was a frozen moment, then Severus moved closer as if to hold her, but before he could touch her they both heard a soft scraping noise from behind. Travers had started to throw off Severus's hasty spell. They quickly both turned to him and made sure he was immobilized, but left him free to speak.

"I don't suppose you have Veritaserum in that bag of yours?" Severus asked.

"If I say yes, are you going to turn me in to the Ministry?"

Severus snorted and held out his hand. Hermione fished out the tiny bottle and gave it to him. Three drops later, Travers was spilling everything he knew about Fenrir Greyback, and the plot to steal orphaned werewolf children and kill them for potions ingredients. Hermione looked sick, and Severus was fingering his wand with an expression on his face that made Hermione remember he really had been a Death Eater.

Unfortunately, none of their questions about Moody yielded anything but blank astonishment that he had been alive until recently. Travers had had nothing to do with Moody's death, although he'd been mightily pleased to learn of it.

Hermione and Severus were just discussing how they were going to get Travers to the Ministry for a trial without compromising Hermione either for her knowledge of Severus's whereabouts, or her unauthorized possession of Veritaserum. Actually, Hermione was discussing these things, Severus was suggesting he should just kill Travers and toss him on the trash pile at the back of the alley. The argument was starting to become heated when the MLE arrived in a series of cracks.

Hermione stood and stared in consternation at Lucius Malfoy, who was standing on her hearth idly flicking a bit of cinder from his robe. Guilt roiled her stomach as she waited for him to sit down.

"Have you spoken to him?"

"Not yet. I have, however, engaged a solicitor on his behalf. Ms. Clearwater will be permitted access to him and will be able to escort us. She is quite competent. I believe you may know her daughter from your school days."

"I hear she's very good, and also very discreet," Hermione approved.

"Precisely."

Both were silent for a moment, until Hermione finally couldn't stand the tension anymore. "I'm so sorry about what happened, Mr. Malfoy. Severus is your friend. You hired me to get him out of trouble, not into it. I can't tell you how sorry I am how it turned out," Hermione burst out in a rush.

"I can't believe I haven't already asked you to call me Lucius, Miss Granger."

He had, but she'd not felt comfortable, especially since he had been employing her. Wallowing in guilt, and the two glasses of Firewhisky she'd had while waiting for him, she could no longer ignore the request.

"Hermione then, Lucius."

He smiled at that, a rather nicer smile than she could recall ever having seen on him.

"Thank you, Hermione. Now I don't blame you for accepting Severus's gallant lies in your defense. You must realize he would prefer you to be at liberty to act on his behalf than uselessly cooling your heels in the next cell over from his, even if I'm sure he'd like your company."

"I do realize that. It's the only reason I let him do it," Hermione responded. He was right, of course, she couldn't help Severus if she was in Azkaban, or if she'd had her license revoked for carrying and using unregistered Veritaserum. None of which made her feel any better about letting him take the blame for it, and for insisting that that afternoon had been the first time he'd laid eyes on Hermione Granger since the end of her sixth year. The only thing that would do that was if she succeeded in freeing him.

"So, where are you currently in your investigation?" Lucius asked her.

"Dead in the water," She told him, her eyes grim. Our only lead was Travers, and while he was entirely worth catching and bringing to justice, and he certainly had a grudge against Alastor Moody, he had not known Moody was alive and didn't have a clue how he'd died."

"I believe your next plan was to check for living relatives of Death Eaters Moody killed in the line of duty, was it not?"

"That's right. There were three names. I checked them all out in the _Daily Prophet_ archives, and two of them I believe we can rule out. That leaves Rosier's family. Can you tell me anything about them? Are they likely to have wanted to avenge his killing?"

"It is the sort of thing the Rosiers would do, but the only member of the family likely capable today is a nephew. He would have been fairly young when Evan was killed, so it's a bit odd at this late date. Not impossible though, especially if he had only just learned Moody was still alive."

"Would he have been at Hogwarts while Professor Snape was teaching?"

"Yes. You wouldn't have known him, he'd have left before your third year. It's probably worth discussing with Severus though."

"Can you arrange with Ms. Clearwater for me to see him?"

"Certainly, I'll have her secretary schedule with Mrs. Longbottom."

Hermione blinked a minute, wondering what Neville's gran had to do with it, before she smiled, realizing he meant Hannah.

* * *

Hermione sat alone with Severus in the small cell where prisoners were allowed to meet with their counsel and authorized visitors. Ms. Clearwater had brought her and Lucius Malfoy. He had come to make sure his friend was being held as comfortably as possible, then planned to visit Rodolphus. Narcissa had apparently sent biscuits to her brother-in-law. Hermione wondered briefly what sort of biscuits a Death Eater in Azkaban might care for. It was certainly a different place without the Dementors.

"Will you be all right getting back by yourself, Hermione?" Lucius asked.

"Yes, thank you, Lucius," she answered.

Severus watched Hermione's eyes follow Lucius Malfoy out of the cell.

"You're on very comfortable terms with Lucius these days," he remarked.

"He's helping me figure out who else might have killed Moody, now that Travers is ruled out."

"I suppose helping requires a fair number of tête-à-tête conversations in his library. Don't tell me you aren't in lust with that library."

Hermione looked at him seriously. She didn't bother asking what he was implying, it was fairly obvious. It was also out of the question. Not to mention ludicrous.

"Of course I am. Last I heard there's nothing wrong with coveting a man's library."

"As long as it's just the library. He's been speaking very highly of you..."

"I'm quite competent," Hermione answered, a dangerous look coming into her eyes.

"It isn't your professional skill he's been praising … or rather, not exclusively," Snape added grudgingly.

"That … seems unlikely. You know what I am; he might acknowledge my competence, hire me, but that's it. You know he must find my company, especially in his home, distasteful. If he's being nice to me it's because he has to the Ministry is watching him too closely for anything else, and I'm friends with Kingsley."

"Distasteful, my arse. You are beautiful, competent, and well connected do you have any idea how sexy he finds that?"

Hermione faltered. Her heart skipped a beat but her stomach knotted in protest. "That's … flattering, but it doesn't matter. He's married."

"And if he weren't? Or were willing not to be?"

"No! It doesn't matter. I won't."

Severus's look suggested unbounded skepticism mixed with an unidentifiable sadness, but he dropped the subject, and she asked about Rosier's nephew.

* * *

Back home that evening, Hermione mulled over the conversation with Snape. Was he right? Was Lucius attracted to her? Part of her was secretly thrilled at the notion it had not escaped her how very handsome he was. How did he manage to make that kind of arrogance so sexy?  
The more rational part rather hoped that he wasn't because it wasn't going anywhere.

Hermione had rather strict notions about carrying on with married men. Not so much on moral grounds as practical. If you could pry a man away from another woman, all you'd won for yourself is a man willing to be pried a bad bargain. Hermione valued herself too highly to consider it.

Severus, on the other hand, was free and clear apart from being in prison, of course. Hermione found him equally attractive, although for mostly different reasons. He didn't have anything like Lucius's physical beauty. None to speak of, apart from that voice. What Severus had that Hermione found attractive was all internal his intelligence, magical power, and the passionate, dedicated soul she'd glimpsed in his memories, all held under such tight discipline, it fairly stopped her breath.

If she could only solve the mystery and get him freed, Hermione thought she'd very much like to see more of "Phineas Drake."

Having slept on the problem, Hermione woke with an idea. She also woke with the vague notion that she'd been having some very interesting dreams which she was disappointed she couldn't remember. _Back to work, Granger. Free Snape, and then maybe you can solve that other problem_, she told herself.

She sent an owl to Lucius as she was preparing breakfast, and read his response over her second cup of tea.

It seemed Rosier's nephew was an employee of a business Lucius held a controlling interest in. Yes, he would be able to schedule an interview with young Rufus. Yes, he would be able to dose him with Veritaserum. No, there was no reason the Ministry needed to hear about it.

Mr. Rosier's job, his mortgage, his wife's job, and a few other things were all one way or another under the control of Mr. Malfoy, he would not be complaining to the Ministry.

Hermione should have been appalled, but she couldn't suppress a shiver. There was more than one kind of power. Severus had one kind. This was another, and it was captivating in its way.

* * *

Two weeks later, Hermione sat with Harry at a table outside Fortescue's. Rufus Rosier had proved to be entirely innocent of Moody's murder. Hermione hung on to her bowl of Dirigible Plum ice cream to keep it from flying away before she could eat it and tried to think. She was running out of ideas.

"Honestly, Harry, nobody with a grudge against Moody had the slightest idea he was still alive. Not any more than the Order did."

"Except Snape," Harry reminded her.

"Snape didn't know either."

"Right, he was just being haunted by someone pretending to be Albus. He didn't need to know Moody was alive to kill him. Hell, I'd have killed him too if he'd done that to me, and I loved Moody."

"Harry! Snape didn't do it."

"So you keep saying, Hermione, but really, you don't have anything reason for it except for Snape's word."

"Knowing what you do now about Severus, Harry, wouldn't you take his word for it?"

"Snape? Certainly not. Come on, Hermione, I know he was working for the Light all the time, but he had to have been talking out of both sides of his mouth for years. I bet he didn't make it to breakfast most days without lying to someone. Hell, he was lying to the entire Wizarding world about being dead for the last seven years."

Hermione reluctantly had to admit that he had a point, she just didn't agree with him. Of course he could lie, and she was certain he could do it so well she'd never know, just as she was certain using Veritaserum on him would be pointless. She simply believed in him.

"Just pretend, for a minute, that you believe him, okay, Harry?"

Harry swallowed another bite of ice cream and gave her a wry look. "Okay, I'm pretending. Now what?"

"Can you think of anyone else who might have known Moody was alive?"

"Well, there's Mrs. Weasley, " Harry said, laughing.

Hermione didn't laugh, she put down her spoon and stared.

"Oh, come on," Harry said. You don't think it was Molly?"

Hermione made a grab for her dish as it had seized her moment of distraction to start floating away again.

"She knew about Moody," Hermione said, gesturing with her spoon. "She knew about Snape too," Hermione added as she realized it.

"How do you figure that?"

"Something Bill said … she'd made some remark about how Snape should be brewing Wolfsbane for the orphanage. We thought it was just a sign that she was … well, getting worse, you know?"

"I know," Harry answered softly.

"But he also said she'd blamed Moody for Fred's death. She said if Moody had been alive, he'd have been there to protect Fred. If she knew he was alive … could she have really felt that way?"

"No way," Harry told her definitely. "She loved Moody. They had been friends for decades."

"I know, but … she really hasn't been well, Harry. Do you think …?"

"No, I don't."

Hermione backed off, she knew that stubborn loyalty only too well, but there were other possibilities. "What if she told someone Moody was alive? Someone who had a grudge, that we hadn't thought of?"

"Now that's an idea," Harry agreed. "I'll ask her about it this weekend."

"Thanks, Harry."

* * *

"Hermione! How could you! I know Mum has been a bit shirty with you, but I thought you had more loyalty than that!"

Hermione looked up, white and shocked, at the sight of Ron Weasley, red faced and puffy eyed, bellowing at her from across her office desk.

"Ron? What happened?"

"Don't tell me you don't know perfectly well? You know a team of Aurors came to the Burrow and hauled my mum off to Azkaban this morning?"

"What? She really killed Moody?" Hermione asked in shock.

"Of course she didn't! It's all some crazy mistake! Someone had to have stolen her wand she could never cast … that spell! She's a mother, _my_ mother, and a grandmother. How could you do such a thing?"

Hermione honestly had no idea how things had gone from Harry casually asking Mrs. Weasley who she'd told about Moody being alive, to a team of Aurors coming to arrest her. She hoped Ron would calm down enough to maybe tell her, but it didn't look like it would be soon.

Eventually it had come out. Harry had asked, as he'd said, and Molly had … not confessed exactly … just answered so strangely and said such nasty things about Moody that Harry had been deeply disturbed. Disturbed enough to tell his boss at the Auror office. When they had come to question her, she'd started screaming that of course she'd done it. She'd have done anything for her poor, darling Fred.

Hermione shook her head in her empty office. Ron had stormed out. She wasn't sure he'd forgive her. Really, if it was anyone, he should blame Harry, but this didn't seem to be the week for Weasleys to be rational.

Draco, as Harry's junior partner, had probably already heard and informed his father, but Hermione owled Lucius an update anyway. He responded that he'd already sent Ms. Clearwater to see about Severus's release. Severus should be home in a day or so.

In a daze, Hermione checked her notes on her time and expenses. She left the listing with Hannah, then astonished her by leaving early for the day.

A few days later, Hermione was again in Severus's kitchen, savoring his amazing tea. They were discussing Severus's plans for his potions garden next year and the article he was currently researching for Magical Forensics Journal. He was still undecided whether to continue publishing as 'Phineas Drake' who had been starting to make a name for himself, or to use his own name, now that he was known to be alive, and not currently wanted for murder.

In the time it had taken Severus to be released, plus the couple of extra days Hermione had waited for him to get comfortable at home again, she had backed down from her initial impulse to fling herself into his arms the moment she next saw him.

She'd done a fair bit of fantasizing on that point, but she honestly had no idea what his thoughts were on the subject, and she had decided that a bit of sneaking up to it was in order. The Gryffindor way had the advantage that she wouldn't be sitting here wondering for days, or potentially weeks what he thought of her, but the disadvantage that if what he thought wasn't along the same lines, she'd be too embarrassed to ever see him again. She just didn't have the nerve to risk it.

So, she drank tea, had lengthy, fascinating intellectual discussions which only made her want to drink in his voice with her tea so that it would fill her chest and vibrate inside her until she tingled all over, and tried very hard not to resemble the annoying schoolchild she was afraid he still saw in her.

There had been one very uncomfortable meeting with Lucius Malfoy, who had dropped in unexpectedly during one of her visits with Severus.

"How are you, Mr … Lucius?"

He inclined his head, "Very well, Hermione."

"And Mrs. Malfoy?"

"She is in Italy for the summer; I've heard she is well, thank you."

_Oh_.

Hermione knew that she was being told something. Obviously the Malfoys were not as close as it had seemed to her these last few years, but there had not been the slightest indication in Lucius's tone or expression that she was intended to take this as a hint. For which she was grateful. Something in her own expression must have given her thoughts away, however, because Lucius continued.

"My wife and I live largely separated, except for public functions, as you've seen us. We will remain married, you understand."

"I understand," Hermione answered, picking her words carefully. "I appreciate your confiding in me. I … value your good opinion."

Lucius nodded, there really wasn't anything more that could be said. "I'd better go. Severus, I brought the contract from Alchemy Weekly, although I suppose you can just give them your address now.

Severus took the packet from him and saw him out. Hermione resolutely sipped her tea and refused to watch Lucius go.

* * *

A/N: Well, now. Guess that's it, everyone is just going to be miserable... ;-)


	6. Chapter 6

Things with Severus became rather uncomfortable after Lucius's visit. On the one hand, it was quite apparent that neither of them were going to pursue any relationship with the other Hermione had not seen or spoken to Lucius since that day. On the other hand, it was equally apparent to her that Severus believed he wasn't her first choice, and it rankled with him.

To be honest, Hermione wasn't certain he was … but neither was she certain he wasn't. While she continued to visit with Severus, and greatly enjoyed his company, she didn't feel comfortable moving things forward while it was still unresolved in her mind. She didn't doubt she wanted to, but it didn't seem quite fair to Severus.

Falling into her usual modus operandi, which had stood her in good stead for many in-between times over the years, she threw herself into her work. There were three other cases that had backed up while she'd been chasing this one down, so she had no trouble keeping busy. At the moment, she had an array of Hector's photographs of a crime scene laid out on her desk and was studying them. She watched the characters carefully as they looped their little actions. At first they stared back at her, and some waved, but eventually they forgot about her and went back to their little action loop. This was when she could sometimes find something … not quite right .

She was interrupted from her study of the pictures by Harry entering her office, alone.

"Harry? Is this business? Where's Draco?"

"No, I'm doing desk duty for a few days while Draco is on leave," Harry told her. "The MLE granted him some time off. He's with his father."

"What happened? Is Lucius all right?"

"Lucius? … Oh, Hermione, you hadn't heard?"

"I haven't gotten out of this office much in the last few days, heard what?"

"Narcissa has been taken in to custody, Hermione. She's going to go to Azkaban for life."

"Narcissa? What? How?..."

"For what she did to Molly."

"Molly? But they were friends, Narcissa was being so nice to her. They are both in Azkaban?" Hermione shook her head, dazed.

"No, Hermione. Molly isn't going to Azkaban. She never did go there. The Ministry determined she wasn't mentally competent to stand trial and sent her to St. Mungos. It took them quite some time to get to the bottom of it, but Molly wasn't ill, she was cursed."

"Cursed? Imperio?"

"No, it was an object, a cursed bracelet … it drove her mad."

"The bracelet Narcissa gave her?"

"That's right."

Hermione's eyes widened. "She was so proud of that, she wore it all the time!"

"That bracelet was a powerful Dark artifact. It worked on her a bit like the Horcrux locket worked on Ron … it ate at her sanity. When they took it off … it looked … thicker than I remembered when she got it."

Hermione saw the bracelet in her mind's eye and realized he was right.

"Remember how the Horcrux felt when we wore it? The bracelet was something like that. It made Molly think all kinds of strange things, it fed on her grief for Fred, and made her fixate on it. Remember, she'd been getting better, then after that gift she started getting worse. Only, none of us made the connection."

"She was blaming everyone who had survived for Fred's death."

"Exactly. And when she meet Moody and found he was alive after all, the curse got her all twisted about him. She was convinced that if she killed Moody it would bring Fred back."

"It wasn't a Horcrux, was it? Who's?"

"No, not a Horcrux; it had belonged to Bellatrix, and she's definitely dead."

"Ohhh," Hermione said, as the knut dropped. "Molly killed Bellatrix to save Ginny."

"Exactly. Narcissa wanted her to suffer for it. Her family too. But they'll be all right now. She's getting the help she needs. She's in the Janus Thickey ward now, but the Healers think she'll be home again in two or three months."

"Poor Draco," Hermione said, then after another moment, "and Lucius. Narcissa waited for him when he was in Azkaban, but..." Her voice faded away.

"Yeah. Draco told me in confidence that their marriage hadn't been good in a long time. They were staying together for the appearance. Trying to rebuild the family reputation for his sake and his eventual children. He's not sure now what his father will do."

"I don't know what to say. I don't know if he'll even speak to me now," Hermione said, the pain of her last meeting with Ron still fresh.

"Draco doesn't blame you, Hermione, you couldn't have known. Oh, and Ron … well, I think he'll apologize. If you hadn't set things in motion, she wouldn't be getting the help she needs now."

"You think he'll see it that way?"

"Yes, because the entire rest of the family sees it that way, and they'll work on him."

Hermione laughed "If he doesn't, at least the rest of the Weasleys will speak to me; I'm very glad of that."

"Good. Oh, and I did actually come on business, Hermione. There's a case for you, if you have time."

"I think so, I'm working on something now," she said, waiving at the photographs on her desk. "Can you bring me the details tomorrow?"

"Sure. I'll see you then," Harry told her and left her office.

An hour later, Hermione was still at her desk, staring into space, the pictures forgotten. She realized she had a decision to make, soon, and she didn't know what she wanted to do. She'd better make up her mind, though, because neither of these men should be trifled with.

She needed to speak to both of them. Which one she went to first would tell them and her what her decision had been.

Another hour later she still hadn't moved from her office, but now there was an open bottle of Firewhisky and a glass tumbler on her desk.

The fireplace flared green. Turning to the sudden light, Hermione saw Lucius's head in the flames. "Miss Granger, Hermione, if you would, we must speak. Would you please step through to my library?"

Hermione rose. It wasn't a decision, she told herself. She was only responding to an invitation.

She told Hannah she was Flooing out to meet a client, and would she please close up, then took the powder from the bowl on the mantel and cast it into the fire. "Malfoy Manor Library."

When she landed in the library fireplace, she saw that both Lucius and Severus were there, and dressed rather formally. Lucius held out a hand to help her step out onto the hearth.

She looked from one to the other to try to guess what they had brought her here to discuss.

"Hermione," Severus said, taking her free hand and leading her to the loveseat where she sat. Lucius took one chair and Severus the other. "Hermione, we need to talk. The three of us."

She looked from one to the other in confusion.  
Lucius spoke, "We both have strong feelings for you, Hermione. While my marriage continued, I would have done nothing, but circumstances have changed."

"I just heard today," Hermione said softly. "I'm really very sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, Hermione. You weren't responsible for Narcissa's actions in any way."

"But you must be devastated," she said.

"Hermione … my marriage has been in name only for quite some time. We stayed together for appearances, because it would help Draco."

"And now that Mrs. Malfoy is in prison..."

"She is in prison for life, there is no waiting for her, and I don't want to. I want my own life now, Hermione, and I want you in it."

Hermione felt her stomach fall out and looked up at those cool grey eyes, not so cool now, as they held hers. Then her stomach gave another flip and she turned to look at Severus, who was staring at her equally intently from her other side.

"Severus and I have discussed the matter, and neither of us are willing to step aside."

Hermione's eyes flitted from Lucius's cool grey ones to Severus's black orbs and back. She was very much afraid of what the next declaration was going to be. Her heart sank.

Severus then continued, "We have been friends a long time, Hermione. Longer than you have been alive..."

_Are they_ both _going to reject me to spare their friendship?_ Hermione thought in mounting anguish.

"And, while we will abide by your choice should you choose one of us over the other, we rather hope you will not," he finished.

_What?_

"Will you have us both, Hermione?" Lucius asked.

"I..." _what were they going to do, take turns?_ Lucius took her hand and kissed the knuckles while Severus lifted her other hand to his face, and she felt his lips on her palm, and then the tip of his tongue just touched the crease in the center. _Oh, I see._ Her eyelids dropped, and her head tipped back in bliss.

Under other circumstances there might have been more courting, more dancing around each other, more emotional intimacy before the physical intimacies started. Hermione decided other circumstances could go hang. She had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow morning; it could all go incredibly pear shaped with wands and hurtful words. She didn't care, this was the sort of opportunity she'd be regretting on her deathbed if she didn't take now. Without opening her eyes, she breathed a heartfelt, "yes."

To Hermione's slight disappointment, she did not immediately find herself spread out on the library floor. Instead she was escorted to the dining room, which was ablaze with candlelight shining off all the brightly polished surfaces. Places were set for three at one end of the long formal table.

Hermione resolved to talk to Lucius about house-elf rights, but not tonight. She bit her tongue while dinner was served and gave herself over to enjoying the wonderful meal and excellent wine. By unspoken agreement, all three kept the dinner table conversation light and entirely off any other events that might be scheduled for the evening.

The agreement held until dessert was served. This turned out to be a dark chocolate and raspberry affair with a bit of whipped cream. Hermione took one bite and sighed in bliss. Lucius smirked, but Severus was riveted by the expression of sensual pleasure on her face. He rose to stand behind her and slid his fingers into her hair. When she tilted her head up, he bent over and, after kissing the side of her face, whispered in her ear, "Don't stop."

Lucius sipped his champagne and watched, with one hand under the table on Hermione's knee while Hermione finished her torte. When she stopped to take a sip from her glass, she felt the hand start to slide up her leg, under the hem of her skirt, and to the inside of her thigh, where it rested, fingers stroking firmly, not tickling in the slightest.

Severus, meanwhile, lifted her hair and started placing kisses on the back of her neck and behind her ears. His lips were warm and dry, but the heat of the breath from his nose scorched her and made her own breath come faster. She could barely swallow the last bite of her dessert, it seemed to stick in her throat in no way helped by the kisses Severus was now trailing from the underside of her chin and down the front of her throat to the small hollow there, where he lingered. Lucius stood and brought her champagne glass to her lips, letting her wash the last bit of cake down with a sip, then helped her to rise.

"Allow me to show you the upstairs, Hermione." Lucius said. "Severus has been a guest here, of course, and knows the way."

There was a shifting of subjects in portraits to other frames, and a susurration of whispering among the occupants as the three of them made their way up the winding front staircase to the upper floor and down the hallway to Lucius's bedroom. Hermione forgot all about the portraits, or any worries about what they'd be saying about her in the morning when Lucius swept her into his arms, carried her into his bedroom, and deposited her carefully in the center of his enormous bed where Severus promptly joined them.

The process of removing everyone's clothing and disclosing naked bodies was a slow but intense affair. Hermione lay back in Severus's arms while Lucius sat at the foot of the bed and slipped her shoes from her feet, then stroked her stockinged legs.

"I saw you like this one night, Hermione," Lucius told her.

"Like this?" Hermione asked looking at him and back at Severus, smiling.  
"Not quite like this," he answered, smiling wickedly. "In your office, with your shoes off. You had your legs stretched out and propped on your desk and were reading something. I had meant to ask you if you had learned anything new, but when I saw you I just stared at your legs. You didn't notice me, and I left without saying anything, but this is what I was thinking about doing," he told her, sliding off her stockings off and kissing the arch of her foot.

Her breath caught and she gasped, then felt the deep rumble of Severus's laugh vibrate through her back as she leaned on his chest. She twisted and tried to concentrate on unbuttoning his shirt, while Lucius moved up from her foot to her calves and thighs. _It's a good thing Severus isn't wearing his teaching robes, or he'd be trapped in them all night_, Hermione thought in frustration, but she finally got his shirt off just as Lucius moved up and began untucking her blouse from her skirt.

By the time Lucius had Hermione entirely naked, she had removed both their shirts, and they had dealt with their own shoes and socks. Lucius was more heavily furred with white-gold hair than she would have expected, and Severus's chest was nearly bare of hair except for a bit around his nipples and a dark line from his chest down to the waistband of his trousers, where the bulge of his erection was patently obvious. He gasped when she touched him there, and Lucius murmured from behind her, "I think he likes that."

She started to stroke Severus more firmly through his trousers, but he caught her hand and said, "Not yet, Hermione. It's been too long for me to keep any control."

She sighed and brought her hands up to his shoulder when he let it go. "What then?" she asked.

Lucius answered instead, "It's been rather a while for me too, but not so long as for him, I daresay. Don't worry about it, Severus. There's both of us to see to Hermione, after all."  
Then, to Hermione, "Do your worst to him, my dear; I'll be here for you if you wear him out."

Hermione laughed and took that as permission to concentrate on Severus for the moment. She had been uncertain of the etiquette of the situation, but now she relaxed and flowed into Severus's arms and his kiss, pressing her naked body against his bare chest and clothed hips, twining her legs around his. Behind her she felt the rustle of Lucius removing his remaining clothing. She wanted to turn and look, but the kiss she was in took all her concentration. Severus tasted of chocolate and champagne, she found when he opened his mouth to her. His moan when she entered at his invitation was intoxicating. Dimly, she felt hands pulling at her hips, making a space between them, then one hand insinuated itself and began doing lovely things to her, while a very hard penis pressed firmly along the small of her back and hot kisses traced the lines of her shoulders.

"Pants. Off." She told Severus thickly. Panting, he complied, then returned to kissing her, moving down to suckle at her breasts, moaning softly in pleasure. All the while, Lucius's fingers continued to work on her, firing her to fever pitch.

Hermione took one long look at Severus, his dark lashes just brushing the white skin of her breast, the length of his body, lean lines and straining cock, all wound as tight as a drum, then closed her own eyes, unable to hold them open longer. She was forced to concentrate only on the sensations she was feeling from two men, both trying to drive her to the brink of distraction and over. Finally, she was there, and her body spasmed while Lucius held her tight against his chest with one arm, and Severus stopped suckling her breasts to watch the flush rise up her chest and face.

When the first waves had crested and Hermione was still gasping, Lucius said, "For Merlin's sake, Sev, don't just lie there staring at her." Stirred back into action, Severus didn't waste another moment, but pulled Hermione beneath him and slid into her. He held perfectly still a few moments, while she felt the tremors start to subside, then began to move with determination. He didn't lose control as quickly as he had seemed to fear, and smirked as Hermione rapidly returned to a state of incoherence, aided and abetted by Lucius sliding closer to kiss and caress her. Severus pushed himself up on his arms. She must have been incoherent, because for a moment, she though she saw Lucius lift a hand from her breast to stroke Severus's chest, and tweak a nipple. At that, Severus shattered, his sudden frenzied thrusting dragging Hermione right over the cliff with him.

Recovering her breath, Hermione was very happy that magic was available as she felt Severus's wordless gentle cleaning spell. She kissed an exhausted Severus and turned her attention to Lucius, who had been much more patient than her experience of him hitherto would have suggested.

Before the night was over they had gone turn and turn about in most of the available combinations, and everyone was satisfied with the results of their endeavors Hermione especially so. She lay drifting off softly on linen sheets and feather pillows, wrapped in four strong arms. She still didn't know what this was, but she liked it very much.

~Fin~

* * *

Thanks for following along. I hope you enjoyed the ride. I love to hear from readers and do my best to respond to everyone.

-Owlbait


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